


A Halloween Tale

by Selina_2000



Category: Original Work
Genre: Death, Funny, Gen, Halloween, Humor, Small Towns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-20 17:28:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21285443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selina_2000/pseuds/Selina_2000
Summary: A mysterious man arrives in Bristol, West Virginia, during Halloween.
Kudos: 2





	A Halloween Tale

The sun was setting, casting a  pinkish glow on the streets of the small suburban town of Bristol, West Virginia. Orange and brown leaves coated the sidewalks and the air smelled like cinnamon and coffee. On the perfect trimmed lawns of the white two story residences, pumpkins decorated the small gravel paths leading up to the front doors, where kids crowded, holding out their hands and waiting for the grown-ups to give them sweet treats. Laughter and screams echoed on the street, dozens of voices mixing together as the children move in a procession towards the next house. 

It would be very easy getting lost in Bristol, as the streets curved in strange angles and promising lanes led into cul-de-sacs. Even more difficult for strangers was that the houses seemed so much alike it was hard to tell if you were walking in circles or if you had indeed reached a new neighborhood. It wasn’t a town made for tourists. On the far edge of Parker’s Lane, a tall figure stood out from the cheering crowd of trick-or-treaters. The man checked his map for the millionth time that night, sure he had taken a wrong turn somewhere. He backtracked his steps, checking the sign once more. The street he now stood had a signpost clearly identifying it as  _ Cecil St., _ which is supposedly connected with  _ Richmond Lane _ , and not  _ Parker’s Lane _ , as the other sign named the street he had just come from. 

The man sighed, folding his map before placing it in a hidden pocket inside his heavy black robe. One thing was clear: his map was wrong. He had checked every street perpendicular to Cecil, and none of them was the right one.  _ “It will be easy”,  _ his boss had said before sending him there,  _ “Just turn left at the end of Cecil and you will be right there”. _ He cursed his boss mentally as he tried to think what to do next. Never before had he got lost on the job. A small, old woman walked peacefully down the street, her tiny feet crushing the dried leaves with each step.

He cleared his throat. “Excuse me, ma’am”, he began. His voice was coarse and unsure. It sounded like he hadn’t spoke in a long time, which was partially true, it had been ages since he had had a conversation in the  _ human _ sense.

The old woman stopped and looked at the man through her thick glasses. She squinted her eyes, frowed and then answered. “Aren’t you a little too old for dressing up?”

The man would have blushed of embarrassment, had him been able to. “Do you know how to get to Richmond Lane?”, he asked, ignoring the woman’s question.

The woman’s lips curved upwards slightly. The stranger noticed that her skin was paper thin and she looked very weak, he wouldn’t be surprised if he saw her again very soon. “I told them it would create more bad than good. But, you see, this new generation think they know everything”, she made a  _ tsking  _ sound and shook her bony finger in front of the man’s covered face. He resisted the urge of shoving her hand away. “I said  _ ‘so what that old Richmond liked little girls? He wasn’t the only one in those ages to do such a thing _ ’, but the city council was so decided in changing the name that no one heard me.” She crossed her arms, outraged, and shook her head sadly.

The man was puzzled. “Ma’am? I simply asked where could I find Richmond Lane”, he tried again, pronouncing the words very slowly.

“And I was telling you the reason of why there’s no Richmond Lane anymore. Last year they changed the name”, she waved towards the street sign, “now it’s  _ Parker’s Lane _ , in honor of the young girl who died.”

“Oh,” exclaimed the man. “Thank you, ma’am”, he politely bowed his head to the woman and returned to Parker’s Lane. The old woman muttered something under her breath and kept going on her way.

Ahead, the children were still knocking on the doors begging for candies and chocolates. A boy cried as a tired mother dropped candy corn into his waiting hand. A girl sucked on a lollipop and happily jumped on the sidewalk. Two brother threw fallen leaves on each other, and ran out of reach when their father tried to make them stop. The residents on Bristol had no idea of the danger that lurked between them.

The cloaked stranger stopped in front of the house number 617, and approached the door, ringing the doorbell. Just then, a group of four children came running and circled him, shouting and jumping and they heard footsteps coming closer. The white door opened and they were greeted by a smiling man, who mustn’t have been older than thirty. He carried with him a plastic bowl shaped like a pumpkin and filled to the top with chocolate bars. The children cheered.

“There, there”, the man calmed down the kids. “I’ve chocolate for everyone”, another row of cheers emerged from the group. “One for you, little Vampire”, he said, taking a Mars and giving to the child dressed as Dracula. “And one for you, Mrs. Mummy”, he took another bar from the bowl and gave to the girl covered in bandages. “Here we go, Sir”, he gave one to the boy in a knight costume. “And this is yours, My Majesty”, he bowed from his waist down as the little princess took her chocolate. 

The four ran away, leaving just the smiling man and the stranger. The man eyed the newcomer up and down, running his gaze through the other’s heavy black robe and white mask. “Oh, Mister Death, I can’t forget about you”, the man said cheerfully, shaking a large Snickers bar in his hand.

“Actually, Mr. Anderson, I’m not--”

The stranger was interrupted as Mr. Anderson shoved the chocolate into the other man’s waving hands. “There you go, now go, Mister, go claim the souls of the wicked.”

“Not only the wicked… Most of my harvests are of the innocents. But, as I was saying, Mr. Anderson, I’m not here for--”

“Fine, you teenagers, always greedy for more. Take another one”, he said as he gave Death another Snickers.

“That’s not what I want--”

“Do you prefer Mars? Or are you a Kit Kat man?”, Mr. Anderson asked, taking the chocolates out of his pumpkin as he spoke, and giving them to the visitor.

Death looked to his hands, holding 4 bars and sighed. He shoved them into his pockets and thanked Mr. Anderson, who waved a cheerful goodbye before closing the door and going back inside.

The sun hid behind the tree line in the horizon, and Death walked calmly through the suburban streets of Bristol, taking a bite out of his Kit Kat. He chuckled as he mounted his motorbike and, with a loud noise, accelerated out of the small town. Mr. Anderson’s soul would have to wait, he just hoped Satan wouldn’t be too mad.  _ “Nah,”  _ Death thought to himself, as the wind blew his cloak around his figure,  _ “if he starts bothering me, I’ll just give him one of my chocolate. No one can be angry while eating chocolate, not even the Devil himself.” _


End file.
